He was a fat goblin.
"FUCK YOU! WHY AM I AN UGLY GOBLIN?!" John screamed at the empty air, his new raspy voice cracking with pure outrage as he stared down at his stubby green fingers and the soft, wobbly belly that jiggled with every furious breath. The smell of mud, smoke, and unwashed bodies assaulted his nose while distant goblin chatter and the wet sounds of crude rutting echoed between the crude wooden huts.
The system replied in its flat, sarcastic tone directly inside his head. "It is best to fit in. A semi-advanced non-feral goblin allows for smoother integration without immediate suspicion."
"I don't care!" John yelled, stomping one clawed foot and sending a splash of mud up his already filthy leg. "I want to look like the hottest goblin ever! Fix it!"
The system paused, then delivered the insult with clinical precision. "Of course the basic power-fantasy-loving nerd wants to be the hottest version of whatever race he lands in. Can't even enjoy being a sneaky goblin for five minutes before demanding to be the main character again. How predictable."
"HEY—!" John started, but the transformation hit him mid-protest.
His body stretched upward with a series of wet pops and cracks, growing rapidly until he stood at a solid 6'3". The excess fat melted away and redistributed into lean, toned muscle that still kept a pleasing layer of softness in all the right places. His greasy black hair lightened into a stylish, curly gray that fell in attractive waves instead of limp strings. Proper leather and metal armor formed over his frame — well-fitted, practical, yet intimidating — paired with sturdy brown baggy leather pants and actual boots that didn't immediately squelch with mud. The changes settled, leaving him feeling powerful and strangely… good.
John rushed to the nearest puddle and peered down. The reflection staring back made him grin like an idiot. He had the sharp, handsome face of a guy in his early twenties, but green. Hot green. Strong jaw, piercing eyes, curly silver-gray hair framing it perfectly. He puffed his chest out, flexing experimentally, and let out a low, satisfied chuckle. "Hehehehehe… now I look cool."
He quickly pulled up his new status to check what he was working with.
Title: Hero Description: The more people believe in you as their hero, savior, or champion, the stronger you become. There is no upper limit. Faith is power. Devotion is strength. The wider and deeper the belief, the more godlike you grow.
Skill: Tenacity Your battle intelligence and tactical awareness increase dramatically the longer and harder a fight continues. The more desperate the situation, the sharper your mind becomes, allowing you to spot weaknesses, predict movements, and turn the tide through sheer stubborn will and growing genius.
Skill: Physical Demon When you are in dire pain or critically injured, you gain insane physical buffs. Strength, speed, endurance, and regeneration skyrocket the closer you are to death, turning near-fatal wounds into temporary sources of overwhelming power.
Skill: Threads You can generate and control ultra-thin, paper-wire-like silk threads that are ten times stronger than steel while remaining flexible. These threads are sharp enough to cut through armor and flesh like knives and can be controlled with precise mental commands for binding, slicing, or intricate manipulation.
John whistled low, genuinely impressed. "Damn… I'm glad I got such good powers. This could actually be fun." Then the title hit him again and his face twisted. "BUT WHY AM I A HERO?! I wanted to do morally heinous stuff and be an overlord! This is a bummer…"
He pouted, shoulders slumping dramatically as he trudged along the muddy path toward the crude buildings ahead.
The goblin village was nothing like the clean fantasy settlements he had imagined. It was raw, filthy, and chaotic. Huts made of warped wood and scavenged hides leaned against each other at odd angles. Goblins of all shapes, mostly the slender, femboyish variety with exaggerated curves, roamed the muddy streets.
Fights broke out constantly, fists flying, only for the combatants to start fucking mid-brawl, small green bodies colliding with wet slaps and high-pitched moans. A particularly thick-assed goblin woman was currently getting railed by six different males at once, her moans loud and shameless as bodies slapped together in a messy pile of limbs and sweat.
John watched with growing attraction, his new cock already stirring in his baggy leather pants at the raw, primal energy of it all.
A busty goblin woman with enormous tits and an even bigger ass suddenly nudged his hand, her yellow eyes sparkling with mischief. She pointed at his pockets and tilted her head cutely. "Shineys?"
John blinked, confused for a second, until he realized these goblins barely had any real technology or currency beyond shiny metal. She was asking for gold. He checked his pockets and found a small leather pouch. Inside were five gold coins and a decent handful of silver. The woman's eyes lit up the moment she saw the gold. She snatched one coin with nimble fingers, giggling
"Hehehe~" before boldly slipping it deep into her cleavage, the shiny metal disappearing between her massive green breasts.
She smiled up at him with sharp teeth and a sultry tilt of her hips. "One shiny… lots of fuck? Yes?"
John's lips curled into a slow, evil grin, the kind that promised trouble. His earlier frustration melted away as heat pooled low in his belly. He glanced once more at the chaotic orgy happening just down the street, then back at the eager goblin pressing her soft, heavy tits against his arm.
"It wouldn't hurt to indulge a little…" he murmured, voice dropping into a dark chuckle. "Heheheh…"
The busty goblin's eyes sparkled with delight as she grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward a nearby hut, her wide hips swaying with every step. John followed without resistance, already imagining how those fat green cheeks would look bouncing on his newly upgraded cock. The village was loud around them, moans, grunts, the wet slap of flesh, arguments turning into frantic rutting, and for the first time since waking up as War, John felt something close to genuine excitement.
Maybe being stuck in a goblin village for a while wouldn't be so bad after all.
He let the woman pull him inside the dimly lit hut, the heavy scent of musk and smoke wrapping around him as the leather flap fell shut behind them. She turned, pressing her massive breasts against his armored chest, yellow eyes half-lidded with hunger.
"Lots of fuck now?" she purred, one small green hand already sliding down toward the growing bulge in his pants.
John's grin widened, one hand boldly grabbing a handful of her enormous ass and squeezing. "Yeah… lots of fuck."
The goblin giggled again, the sound high and eager, as she dropped to her knees right there on the dirty floor, fingers already working at the laces of his baggy leather pants with surprising dexterity.
Outside, the village continued its endless cycle of violence and lust, but inside the hut, John finally allowed himself to stop thinking about kingdoms, craters, or titles. For now, there was only warm green skin, soft curves, and the wet heat waiting for him.
He was going to enjoy this.